


Our Normal

by captmarvlouslegacies



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-23 12:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20891885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captmarvlouslegacies/pseuds/captmarvlouslegacies
Summary: They both want normalcy. To live a life of small intimacies that wasn’t an option for them when they wanted it to be. But, they just need to create their own kind of normal.





	1. The Before

-

**Him**

Chris stared out of the window, looking at the array of red and brown trees that filled his sightline. There were a lot of beautiful places in the world, but nothing held a candle to Massachusetts in the fall.

“So you’re taking some time off?” The older gentleman Chris knew as Joseph asked him. Josephs thick-framed, tortoise-shell glasses had a glare over the lens, and it unnerved Chris. Usually it was comforting, thinking you can talk without someone looking at you. But in this moment, Chris wished he could see his eyes.

“Not intentionally.” Chris shrugged. “I’ve been so busy recently that I haven’t even had time to look for other projects. I guess I just… ended up with a few months off.”

“Are you okay with that?” Joseph asks. Chris is thankful he didn’t ask if he was happy with that. Its a harder conversation to have, even with a therapist.

“Yeah, I think. I mean, I get the holidays off, get to be in Boston the best time of the year. It’s not a bad deal. I don’t really need the income any way,” Chris laughs, trying to make light of the situation. Joseph doesn’t seem to buy it.

“Work and income can be two separate things; certainly when regarding your profession. Do you think you’ll become bored?” Joseph asks.

“Nah, I’m around my family. If I get bored, I’ll just… do something with them or… make up another project. It’s fine, I won’t get bored.”

“When you say family, I assume you’re referring to -“

“My mom, brother, my sisters, nieces and nephews, cousins, all that jazz. There are no shortages of Evans’ in Boston, that’s for sure.” Chris felt the scrutiny weighting him down. He jumps off the worn couch and begins to look around at all the pictures and awards hanging from the white walls. At least it gives his body something to do if he can’t escape this conversation.

It always shocked him, how uncomfortable he got during a therapy session. He spent the entire time mentally beating himself up for choosing to do this to himself. He was so conditioned to hold back this information, to hold it away from those who wondered, that if went against his very nature to deliberately tell this to someone. Someone he didn’t know that well. Someone who, even though was legally obligated to withhold this information, could very much go to the first reporter they meet and say ‘I know something about someone!’

So it was uncomfortable, but it helped.

“Does your family like it when you’re in town?”

“Of course.” Chris whips around to look at Joseph. “We’re tight. We always have been.”

“I only ask this because it can be hard to adjust to another person, especially someone who comes and goes as much a you do.” It’s the first time Joesph has stated something instead of asking Chris for his input.

“We don’t have that problem. When I’m here, I’m included. When I’m gone… its different. But I’m included here. Like I said, we’re tight.” Chris says defensively. He knows it’s inappropriate to be defensive towards his therapist, that Chris asked for this and ultimately Joesph just wants to help, but its an automatic reaction when someone questions his family. Another hazard of the job.

“What do you do together?”

Chris sputters something unintelligent. “I mean… everything. We’re just together.”

“Day to day activities? Dinners? Social events?” Joseph pries.

“Depending on the day, all three. I go to the grocery with my mom, help my nephews with homework, fix things around the house. I like doing mundane things when I’m here. It gives me a sense of… normalcy. It’s nice.” Chris admits. He wonders when his celebrity status turned into a sensitive topic, when it became something to dance around like a badly kept family secret.

“But that’s it, you do… _housework_?” Joseph’s tone of voice doesn’t imply that he’s being judgmental, but Chris feels it anyway.

“No, of course not! We do social things together. Hell, tomorrow we’re having a get together at my mom’s new neighbors house. We go out; we do things outside of the house.” Chris says.

“Does it make you nervous? Being out with your family, in situations you can’t control?” Joseph asks, eyes shifting up to meet Chris’.

“What do you mean?” Chris asks. He knows what Joseph means, but he needs to hear it first.

“Staying in you house gives you a sense of control. You choose to let people in. When you’re in public, you don’t have that sense of security.”

Chris sighs. “I worry about it.. being recognized when I’m with my family. But it’s different when I’m home. I get a sense of… I don’t know… people don’t mind me, as much. This is really the only place I can go out with my family, so I definitely take advantage of it.”

Joseph makes a noise of acceptance and pushes his glasses back up on his face.

“What about having new neighbors? Does it worry you that they won’t be as… uncaring as everyone else here?”

“No.. I’ve met them a few times. They’re nice. And sweet. They’re older so they don’t care about my job. Part of me thinks they don’t even know who I am.” Chris smiles down to himself. He doesn’t want to let his ego get too big, but the thought of living across the street from people who have no clue what he does for a living it pretty hilarious to him.

“Are you worried what would happen if they found out?” Joseph asks. Chris thinks for a moment.

“No.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think anything would change, really. They don’t exactly strike me as the kind of people who would make a big deal out of it.”

“You have faith in them?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Chris knows what Joseph is playing at.

“I do. I may backfire, but I gotta have faith in someone, right? And they make good food, so it might as well be them.”

-

**Her**

The airport is eerily calm. There are business people running about and flight staff walking with sheer determination, but there is no panic. No families racing to get to their next gate, despite have a four hour lay over; no lost elderly couples asking everyone in the vicinity where they need to go. It was a nice change of pace.

Maria didn’t mind flying; its the airport that made her nervous. There wasn’t always certainty with getting through security quickly, going to the right gate, flight delays, luggage mishaps, etc. She would have traveled with only a carry on, but spending ten days somewhere required a bit more that the usual last-minute packing system she’d been using her whole life.

She stands at the luggage carousel waiting for the light to begin flashing, and decided that if she didn’t call her mother now, she would forget to. After a moment of hesitation, she presses call.

“You landed?” Her mothers chipper voice was loud enough that the man next to Maria looked over at her.

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for luggage now.” She said.

“Oh yay! I cannot wait for you to see the house. Honestly, mimi, you’ll love it!” Her mom said. Maria often wonders how her mothers enthusiasm for, well, everything didn’t engrain itself into her. She’s not sure if she’s sorry or thankful for it.

“I feel like I’ve already seen it with all the pictures you and dad have sent me.”

“But it’s so different in person! I swear, it’s the nicest one we’ve built. I don’t think we’ll ever move, but if we do, I’ll keep the house anyway.”

An unintentional sad smile makes it way to her lips. She’s lost count of how many times her parents have said that to her over the years. She stopped holding out hope that it was true somewhere around 15 years old.

“Dad said you had friends coming over for dinner tonight.” Maria said.

“Yes! They’re our neighbors, ya know, the one with a bunch of kids. Almost everyone is here already and very much looking forward to meeting you.” Maria could feel the smile in her mothers voice.

“How exciting…you should make it very clear that I’ve been traveling all day, so that’s why I’m so… not ready for public viewing.” Maria looks at the baggy clothes that were prefect for traveling, but not ideal for good first impressions. She will pretend not to care about it, act like that cool, care-free girl everyone seems to adore. But she will. And she’ll hate herself for it, too.

“I’m sure you look fine, Maria. Now, are you sure that you don’t want dad to come pick you up? I could send him right now if you need me to.”

“No, really, don’t worry about it. I already called an Uber.” Maria lied. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her parents, but she would be spending ten days with them. It wasn’t a huge travesty if she spent a 30 minute car ride mentally preparing herself.

“Okay… but text me a picture of the license plate before you get in. And wait for the driver to tell you who they’re picking up before you say anything, okay?” Maria’s mother adopted that mom voice, that still could sent her into a cold sweat with just one word. But Maria knew it was just out of love.

“I will. See you soon, love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie!” She said before hanging up the phone.

At that moment, the light began to flash and the conveyer belt began moving.

-


	2. At First Glance

**Her**

“It’s pretty cold for this time of year, isn’t it?” Maria asked, nervously tapping her foot. She could see the house approaching in the distance, and wanted to take her mind off of what lay ahead for her. The Uber driver glanced in the rearview mirror, expressionless and daunting, and didn’t reply.

_Okay then._

She began gathering her things to avoid looking at all the large, looming houses they were passing. Despite her parents having become empty-nesters years ago, they still always had a house fit for a family of ten. She figures its her parents never-ending thirst to entertain people. No matter how popular Maria was (which she absolutely wasn’t), her parents would always trump her. Whatever trait that required her parents to be so hospitable and welcoming, had skipped her.

The moment the car stopped in front of the modern-esque farmhouse, Maria’s driver was out of the car and pulling her suitcase out for her. By the time she was standing on the sidewalk with the rest of her things, the driver was already back in the car and driving away.

She wondered if he felt the same sense of being out of place here, too.

Walking up the steps, Maria could hear the liveliness inside the house. Laughter, children running, plates clinking together. It made her nostalgic for her childhood.

Before she could open the door, Maria’s dad burst open with a smile and glass of red wine waiting for her. _Bless him._

“Dad!” She said. He just looked at her warmly and gave her a hug.

“How was the flight? Not too bad?” He asked, picking up her suitcase and pulling them inside.

“No, just tedious,” She sighed and took a sip of wine as her dad placed all her stuff in the corner. “Sounds like the party’s been going here for a while,” She glanced past the entryway, seeing a lot of action from the living room.

“Mom needed to do something to pass the time before you got here. You know how nervous she gets,” he said sheepishly. Maria did, in fact, know what her mother was like when she wasn’t anxious for something. She would have felt bad for the company if she hadn’t been through it so many times before. “You ready to meet everyone?” Maria’s dad asked.

“Do I have a choice?” She joked. Her dad was smart enough to know that the sarcastic question was just to cover a genuine one.

“Come on, I think you find some of our guest… rather interesting.” He said, leading her into the living area and kitchen. Maria’s brows furrowed, but she followed him anyway.

Walking into the massive living area, Maria was smacked with a wall of noise. A chorus of ‘_Hey_!’ and ‘_There she is_!” rang out, nearly physically knocking her down. She smiled warmly, trying to take stock of who all was here. Before she could, she was consumed in a bear hug by her mother.

“Sweetie! You’re here!” She said, squeezing Maria until her eyes bugged out of her head. She didn’t mind; mom hugs are the best. “How was the trip? Not too long, I hope. Oh gosh, mimi, you look amazing! Have you been using those face masks I sent you? Or is it all that vitamin C you’re getting at the beach all the time? And did you loose weight? I swear, the last time I saw you those pants weren’t quite as baggy.”

Maria just nodded along, trying to follow the conversation and ignore the stares of a bunch of strangers.

“Ugh, honey?” Maria’s father says, cocking his head towards the dozen pair of curious eyes staring at the reunion.

“Oh yes! Maria, these are the Evans’ I was telling you about! They live on this block too!” Her mother said, pulling her towards the center of the room. Maria felt a sudden strike of deja vu, recounting all of the times her parents pushed her forward to meet friends she knew they wouldn’t remember in a few months. Luckily, the charade was practiced and Maria could snap right back into it.

“It’s nice to meet you all. My parents sing your praises frequently,” She smiles, looking around. The mother, or at least the woman closest in age to her own, stands up and shakes her hand. She’s warm and smells nice. Maria likes her instantly. Her heart breaks a little for her.

“Oh I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what your parents have told me about you,” the woman said. The flinch in Maria’s face was barley noticeable. Maria side-eyed her mother, but she was too busy pulling more appetizers from the oven.

An easy chatter had settled back over the room, and Maria was no longer standing under the scrutiny of their stares. She took a minute to look over the house, admiring the craftsmanship that went into it.

Then she saw him.

She wasn’t looking for him. If anything, she was trying to avoid the gaze’s of those around her. But she saw him anyways.

He had a big presence, and not just physically. In a room full of people, they all seemed to have centered around him. His laugh carried, his eyes shines, his body took up more space than usual. Maria was honestly shocked he wasn’t the first thing she looked at when walking in.

As soon as their eyes met, he turned away. She was grateful for that; he miss the look of confusion she gave. Her head turned to her mother, who was still blissfully unaware of Maria’s shock. She walked to the kitchen, pretending to busy herself by looking for something, trying to catch her mothers attention.

“So… am I staying upstairs? Or down here? Would you like to show me my room… perhaps?” Maria said, as nonchalantly as possible.

“Well, your father and I fixed up the pool house out back. Did you want to stay there or upstairs?” Her mom asked.

“Yes I very much would like to see a pool house right now. Please give me a tour.” Maria’s voice was even and trying to give a facade of calmness. Maria’s eyes narrowed at her mother, hoping she would catch her drift.

“Well obviously. Okay, honey, watch the pot roast. I’m gonna show her the pool house!” Her mother shouted before leading Maria out back. As they were walking out, she glanced back at him, hoping that maybe she was seeing him wrong and that it wasn’t exactly who she though he was.

But she didn’t have that kind of luck.

Her mother chattered about the house, detailing the plights of their renovation and what work was still left. Maria just nodded, and waited until they had a little privacy.

“… so this was all going to be torn down, but your father and I decided that it would make such a cute little cabin! It has everything you’ll need; a kitchen, bathroom, living room. Oh, and all the brick is original to-“

“Yes this is all incredibly interesting. But maybe not quite as interesting as the fact that Captain America is currently sitting on your couch.” Maria said, matter-of-factly.

“You mean Chris?” Her mom asked, still puttering around the pool house.

“Is there someone else who’s played Captain America in the house? How popular are you guys, exactly?” Maria said. Her mother finally looked up at her and rolled her eyes.

“Chris is a very sweet man. Lisa says that it's rare he has an opportunity to not be a celebrity around people outside his family, so we try not to treat him any differently than we would anybody else,” Maria’s mother said. 

“That, I get. But why not tell _me_?”

“It didn’t really seem all that important, to be honest.”

“It isn’t, I just… it would have been nice to know.”

“Maria, if we tell you one thing is out of the ordinary, you come up with an excuse not to come. You’ve never been good with new situations.”

Maria cast her eyes down. She hadn’t even been at the house for an hour and they were already getting into childhood trauma. That had to be some kind of record for them.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” She said, not willing to go further down that path. She finally took a moment to look around the room. “So… is there wifi here?”

-

**Him**

“Don’t.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Scott, please.”

“I’m not saying anything!”

“Yeah but you’re about to say something.”

“Oh, so you’re a mind reader now?”

“No, I’m not. And neither are you. So _don’t_.”

Chris didn’t even have to look at his brother to know he had a shit-eating grin on his face. He could just _feel_ it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scott huffed. Chris went against his better judgement and turned to give his brother a very pointed look. They had stepped into the garage to bring in another case of beer, so Chris wasn’t worried about being subtle with his glare.

“I swear I’m not saying anything…” Scott started.

“Thank you,” Chris said, relieved.

“… but if I _were_ going to say something…”

“Here we go,” Chris mumbled under his breath.

“… I would say that she is exactly your type! I mean, if we hired an artist and asked them to create a portrait of your ideal woman, I’m pretty sure it would come out looking exactly like Maria. Like, literally, exactly your type. In fact, I honestly can’t believe there is a woman who exists, who looks like _that_, that you haven’t dated. It’s a bit of a stretch of the imagination, if you ask me.”

“Are you done?” Chris asked Scott. He nodded eagerly, that shit-eating grin still on his face. Chris wanted to smack it right off. “She’s not my type.”

“Oh please!” Scott shouted.

“She isn’t!”

“She absolutely is!”

“And even if she was my type, which she is not, I still wouldn’t hit on her.” Chris said resolutely. He pulled a carton of Sam Adams off the shelf and began walking to the door, but Scott blocked his way.

“Okay, well, even if she’s not your type, she’s still crazy hot. Why wouldn’t you hit on her?” Scott asked. Chris sputtered for a minute, trying to come up with a good reason.

“She is- well, I- I mean- Ya know what, I don’t need a reason not to hit on somebody, okay. If I choose not to hit on her, then you should respect my choice.” Chris said, while shoving him out of the doorway.

“You are so, completely full of shit,” Scott said following him back into the house. Chris just rolled his eyes and tried to brush off their conversation by the time they made it back to the living room.

Chris would never verbally admit it, but Scott was right. Maria was, in no deniable way, 100%, Chris’ type. Look-wise, at least. The moment she had stepped through that threshold, his palms got sweaty, his mouth went dry; all things that happens when he see something he _really_ likes. Under normal circumstances, he would be chatting her up within five minutes of seeing her. He would sweet talk her, buy her a drink, spend the majority of the night flirting before casually inviting her back to his place, then ravage her until the bed was broken.

But these weren’t normal circumstances.

He couldn’t do what he would have done if they’d met in a bar, or through work. Chris hadn’t even spoken to her, and their relationship had already gone further than nearly every other relationship he’d ever been in. She was in his personal stratosphere whether he liked it or not.

Chris placed the carton on the counter, noticing that Maria and her mother were back in the house. They were speaking to Carly, but their conversations as inaudible.

Chris thought about what his move should be. Should he approach her and ask if she recognized him? Should he offer her a drink, even though it was technically more her house than his? Should he join the conversation and not have a formal introduction at all?

_God, Chris, get a grip. _

Before he could figure out his game plan, a large hand patted him on his back.

“Thanks, man.” Her dad said. Chris stood up straighter and nodded. “Maria, did you want beer or wine?” He asks. She looks over at them, politely excusing herself from the conversation, and walking over.

“Hmmm…,” Maria peered down at the counter, looking at the different options. Chris stands beside her, noticing how short she it. He wish he didn’t like that so much. “Dealers choice,” She decided, smiling warmly up at her father. She looks over at Chris and glances down at his drink.

“Well, you can’t be in Boston and not have Boston Lager.” Her father says, pulling a glass out.

“Is that a good choice?” She asks, looking up at Chris. He can’t help the dopey smile that blooms from his lips.

“I think it is.”

She grabs the bottle from her father, cheering his before tapping her drink to Chris’.

“Good choice,” She says to her dadbefore he walks off.

“So, you live in Miami, right? It’s what your parents said,” He asks. She nods after taking another sip. “Its nice there this time of year.”

“It’s still incredibly hot there, this time of year.”

“It’s incredibly hot there _every_ time of year,” Chris says.

“Touché. I’m not sure I’d survive a winter up here, though.” She says, glancing back outside. It was barely even October, and most trees were already turning.

“It’s not so bad. You get used to it. You just gotta wear a lot of layers and spend a decent chunk of time cuddling,” He says. She smiles and laughs lightly at him.

“Sounds like a good plan,” She says. Chris smiles and shrugs, trying to hide his mortification of slipping ‘cuddling’ in their conversation.

“It is, it is. Also, some well-timed trips to L.A. never hurts, so I fit those in too,” Chris said, smugly. She laughed, but another expression crossed Maria’s face. One that said ‘o_h… we can talk about that._’

“I would ask what you do, but I don’t live under a rock, so… it would be a bit redundant,” Maria admitted.

“Yeah, I.. uh, kinda lost the element of surprise with what I do for a living,” Chris didn’t mean for it to sound so depressing when he said it, so he tried to make light of it. She didn’t laugh that time, just looked up at him with a sad, tight-lipped smile. The expression confused him, but he didn’t question it.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of your filmography outside of your Avengers… stuff,” She confessed. Chris shrugged and took a swig of beer.

“Most stuff kind of.. falls in the shadows in comparison. Don’t feel bad, though, it's not like, unusual,” Chris laughed.

“I guess I’ll just have to educate myself then,” She joked.

“Oh boy, be careful. There are some…um… gems in there that you should maybe gloss over.”

“Any musicals?” She asked, hopefully.

“No! Not yet, anyway, ha,” He laughed. She shook her head out of feigned disappointment. “But don’t worry, I imagine you’ll find something even more embarrassing.”

“I’m not so sure about that… but I’ll let you know if I do.”

Chris liked the way she tried to hold her smile before it overtook her face. He like that she could maintain eye contact without seeming creepy. He like that he could talk about about his work without her asking any of the clichéd questions he was so used to getting.

_But it didn’t matter_, Chris told himself.

He glanced up, seeing his brother standing across the room, shit-eating grin still on his face. He gave Chris a thumbs up and gestured his head towards Maria. Chris just rolled his eyes and got another drink. 

-

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://captassmericasbby.tumblr.com


End file.
